May 5

Sunday morning,
May sunshine
pours
through the windows.
Outside
there is a new
tenderness
to the air.
The breeze sings
in soft tones,
drawing us out,
urging us
to reach
for the sun.
Join the chorus
and sing.
This is a time
for birthing,
for growing
for beginnings.
This is a day to
be alive.

NaPoWriMo #25

Driving north down 162
I see a bald eagle
soaring on an updraft
then, seemingly, from nowhere
a crow,
much smaller,
attacks the eagle
again and again

And I wonder
if it is the majestic eagle,
victim of the vicious attacks
from this small, dark smudge,
yet flies on, undeterred
is to be admired
for carrying on,
undeterred

Or if the brave crow
protecting family and home
from a scavenging hulk,
a David fighting off Goliath,
is the hero of this story.

Or if they are both, simply,
doing their best
to survive.
No heroes, no villains
except in my eyes

January Pre-Dawn

Early morning
stars,
so sharp
they cut through
the blue-black back drop
of icy air,
hang above

staccato yips and cries
of coyotes 
so close,
as if I could 
nearly 
reach them
if I stretched – or

perhaps they could reach me, teach me
the desperate, wild
longing
in their cries